Ends and Means
by Animus of Masada
Summary: Do the ends justify the horrifying means? At what point does defending one's country become more than the human mind can bear? One-shot about a side of Minato Namikaze that we never really see.


**A/N: No, I'm not dead. I know you guys want updates to FDCL, and trust me, I'm really flattered by how much you guys care. I would like to say that I'm buried neck-deep in work like many great writers in this site are, or that I'm dealing with a family emergency. The truth is, I've been dealing with a broad range of personal issues, and stuff like this is hard to deal with. I'm finally getting some much-needed help on that front, so we'll see what the future holds.**

**In the mean time, I'll post the occasional one-shot when I feel like it. Hopefully this will help you deal with the wait. **

**This one comes from a scene that we never really see in the manga. It's also a side to one of my favorite characters that is hinted at, but not really explored even implicitly. If you don't recognize the scene, then wait till the ending A/N for the explanation. And don't forget to review!**

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Monster. Murderer.

That was what his enemies called him.

Hero.

That was what his allies called him.

Was it really possible to be both at the same time? Did killing in defense (or service, he had to remind himself) of his country and village make him a hero, or did it make him a murderer on payroll?

Those questions were the kind that every shinobi asked themselves. After all, killing was part of the job, and war was far from an exception.

How many had done _this_, though?

He was surrounded by hundreds of corpses. The smell of blood was all too familiar—but he may as well have bathed in it. Slicing the throat was the quickest and most fluid of lethal strikes with a small knife…and quick and fluid were his style, and by extension, his life.

Killing hundreds in the span of a few seconds was something few people could claim to have done. Many of them had probably enjoyed it. The difference between him and them, he constantly reminded himself, was that he would rather not have had to do it in the first place.

But it was necessary, he told himself. Iwa was the invader; they had started a war with a nation that preferred peace. They were ruthless, even when given the luxury of alternatives.

He was not a monster. Because it was necessary. Because it was an act of defense. Because he would never take pleasure from the fame or congratulations bestowed upon him for this act. It needed to be done, it was ordered to be done, and he had done it.

He could live with that. He could live with the blood of hundreds—thousands, given how the war was going—on his hands, if it meant the defense of his country and the survival of his brothers and sisters in arms.

He would live with the _hatred_ and the _praise_ and the _guilt_, because it was necessary. It had to be done.

So that fewer children would fight a war in which they were unlikely to survive. So that peace—however temporary or flawed—would return as swiftly as possible. The fastest way to end a war with an enemy who wanted to destroy you was to threaten their destruction in return.

So he would destroy, and destroy utterly. He would fight without mercy, without remorse. To end this hellish war sooner rather than later. Was that not a mercy in and of itself?

But as he looked upon the carnage he had imposed on the battlefield in little more than a flash, he almost laughed at the idea. This was no mercy to the fathers, mothers, sons, and daughters that had died this minute, by his hand. This was mercy only in the most abstract of senses, but that did not make it any less important. The big picture mattered just as much as the smaller one. For the ends and the means share a complicated relationship, he knew. The end is greatly affected by what means are used to achieve it.

This was slaughter of soldiers—the means. And a faster road to peace—the ends.

There was no room for empathy. Down that path lead overwhelming guilt, uncertainty towards everything, and crippling regret. There is only so much the human mind can take. But he was a soldier, and soldiers did not betray their nation by hesitating to defend it.

He knew this was the most efficient solution. The path with the least loss of life. The lesser of many evils. It was necessary, he knew. He _had_ to believe it was necessary.

Because if it wasn't, Minato Namikaze half-heartedly thought, there was nothing.

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A/N: This is right after Minato slaughtered the invading Iwa force during Kakashi Gaiden, if you didn't figure it out already.

_**PLEASE REVIEW!**_


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